J – Others – Y

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9/29/19

Spring 1997

Reaching outside of our bubble, our life, who we are, is extremely important. I realized this with a recent family trial that has turned into a journey. It began when my husband’s mom had a major stroke, and I emphasize major. Here comes the medical-there are a few types of strokes ischemic, hemorrhagic, brain stem, and cryptogenic. Hers was a hemorrhagic which is not as common and often deadly. God spared her life. We have known stroke victims, but this was our first experience first hand. Medical terminology, recovery, statistics, blood pressure, etc… are a new road of travel for her family. Many stroke victims lose something from the stroke, and no two people are affected the same. Because of this loss, the family tries to fill in the gaps. It is a trial that has an end result of a new normal. My husband, his siblings, and dad have spent endless hours learning the ropes of a stroke. This education is exhausting and ever changing. The new normal is a full focus on helping their wife and mom regain strength, movement, and cognitive ability. They have taken their lives and reached past their giving threshold and then given more. It is what a person does when life changes in an instant. Life is about others, right?

My junior year of college brought to me my first lesson about others. I had become very much aware of others when I walked into my first dorm room. My friend and roommate my Freshmen year and I grew up with only brothers so we did not have to share with any other girl in our homes. We really got along great! But then there are others when a person lives in a dorm, and one realizes that quickly. I loved each of the dorms I lived in, and for the most part it really went well. But, again, life is not just about us.

My junior year brought an opportunity to see others and serve them. I was able to work in different ministries at the church and spent time telling others about Jesus and His love for them. Our college had been taking mission’s trips each summer, and I signed up to go to the Philippines. Growing up in a pastor’s home allowed the opportunity to meet many a missionary family as they circumnavigated the United States getting ready for the final destination of another country. They are dedicated families that have said “I will go,” taken up their roots in a place they call home, said goodbye to friends and family, and would say hello to a group of people that most likely will not even know the word. These families I met growing up were just like my family, called by God to tell others, serve others. As Christians, we all have that commission.

Missionaries were my heroes. I was more than excited about going to the Philippines. The group going consisted of a couple of close friends and other college students plus a Filipino man from our church at college. He had taken a few groups over in the past, and would set up for us to be there for five weeks with national pastors. These pastors were actually Filipino men who were pastoring churches that in the past might have been started by an American missionary. Pretty cool.

We began in January getting our funds together for the trip, passports sent in, and time off of work depending on where we would be going that summer. We would spend the last week of May and the whole month of June in the Philippines. All of us were excited and began to prepare for children’s programs, testimonies, and youth services. With the preparations, it is really easy to look past what would hit a person right in the face when they go to the mission field. The people are what we are there for, and the experience of going to a foreign field and serving in a ministry aspect is priceless. But the way of living is so different than America, or the America I had experienced growing up. My parents provided all of our needs, and when we moved to Wyoming they both worked full time jobs outside of the ministry to support the family. We were very much taken care of and would have never considered ourselves in need. There are people in this country who would have needs that I had never experienced.

Going to a foreign country opens up a whole new world. People are people no matter what country we live in, and they may have many needs, but the one common ground we have is just that: we are all people, created by God with a heart and soul and mind. We all have a soul that needs Jesus. Whether we live here or in another country, the act of serving others should be in the forefront of our minds.

When a person goes to the mission field for a trip or to minister full-time, they have one goal: to serve others. They have put Jesus first and themselves last to serve others. Across this world people need the Lord. But, what if we are not sent over to another country or never have that opportunity to go on a mission’s trip? Are not people there the same as people here? Yes, they are, so let us serve them here, too. Let us tell them of Jesus. Why in the world are we too busy to do that?! Many a person, myself included, are in too much of a hurry or to even take five minutes to lay out their long schedule for their day or week. Others are the last thing on our minds. Live our lives; that is what God wants us to do. Be diligent, be responsible, but be loving and considerate of lost souls right next door to us. That cashier has a soul and our busyness might skip over that. Our soccer mom friend needs a home church. We live in the “Bible Belt” of the United States. I have met people even here that do not know about Jesus, and many that want to hear of His love. Who are we living our life for?

J-O-Y. I think most of us have the “Jesus” down. I would not question that about the majority of Christians I know. The “You” is an obvious problem with myself included. The “Others” needs a little work. I submit that if we take the amount of “Jesus” on one end of the spectrum and the “You” on the other end and meet in the middle, our “Others” might be just right. Philippians 2:3-5 sums it all up. “Let nothing be done through strife or vainglory; but in lowliness of mind let each esteem other better than themselves. Look not every man on his own things, but every man also on the things of others. Let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus…”

Life Is Good

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9/13/19

Fall 1996

Childhood Cancer Awareness Month. I am very much aware of this because my dear friend lost her little girl this year, and she is sharing her story. I am also a Childhood Cancer Survivor so of course I think about it this month. But what does this really mean to me? I have basically sat back and been a statistic: at thirteen, I was diagnosed with Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, had eighteen months of chemotherapy and spinal taps, was told cancer free and cured at seventeen. Survivor. Made it! Done.

But cancer has never left my life; it just left my body. Sure, I have not walked around telling every person I meet, “I am a cancer survivor!” Why not? I am not quite sure how to answer that, but I do know that God has placed on my heart about a year ago to tell my story. Again, the audience is small, but someone I know, let us make that, many someones I know have been or are being affected by cancer. And if any one of the someones need another step forward, maybe hearing my story will help their brain tell the nervous system to move down to the muscles in the leg and make that foot take the next step to fight this horrendous disease. Because most days, it does not feel like it is worth the fight; cancer takes so much from a person.

Childhood Cancer Awareness Month is a great time to become aware of children with cancer, and the research to fight those cancers is critical. As with most cancer patients, the family will be involved with the fight, but with a child who has their whole life ahead of them, their family is their only way of making it through. How important is family? Very. In previous posts I have shared about my family and their fight along with me to conquer this disease, and then about two of my family member’s same fight in the years that followed my diagnosis. I pretty much hate cancer. And then on the other hand I am grateful for the story I get to tell. God has done some AMAZING things in my life through Childhood Cancer.

In my cancer story timeline, I have completed eight weeks at a summer camp listening to God and seeing Him work in my life. I met a super fantastic, over the top friend who was my roommate at camp, and we quickly decided to request to be roommates in college since she was headed there for her first year and me my junior year. We were granted that request and parted ways after camp excited about being roomies again in a few weeks. I spent a couple of weeks at home and my brother, who was also planning to join me at college, and I packed up our cars and parents and headed to So. Cal. I will mention here that So. Cal. is a great place to go to college! For one, the weather is wonderful! Living in Wyoming for nine years where they say we have nine months of winter and three months where the snow is not as bad, is a bit of an overstatement, but we have shot off many a firework with snowflakes falling. That means: it snowed on the Fourth of July at least twice! Back to So. Cal. There was Six Flags, Disneyland, Knotts Berry Farm all within 30 minutes to an hour and every beach about an hour. Anyway, I enjoyed living there.

My brother and I were very excited for the new school year, and we were ready for it to begin. I was assigned a new dorm as assistant RA and my new roommate and I settled in to the college schedule. We also had fun times with a group of friends that was quickly growing. She had come down with some from her church, and I had also reconnected with my friends from the previous year. Life Was Good! I remember being on a spiritual high from the summer and anxious for the chapel services and guest speakers visiting the campus.

I had an easy life, far from my four years of cancer life. Who needs cancer? It was extremely easy to leave that all behind and enjoy what I had to the nth degree. But why is it, we go through something, and because it does not have place in our lives at the time, we push it aside and focus on other things? For me, I was moving on; I did my time and wiped my hands clean of all the ugliness of cancer. Is that bad? No, probably not. But other people are going through trials, and I should care. When Life Is Good, it is someone else’s trial. True, but I would NEVER have been able to recover, first without the Lord, and second without family and friends. Sure, I was determined to beat it myself, which is crucial, but my family and friends were my ROCK, no doubt about it. Those that prayed for me, yes, God heard those prayers. He tells where two or three are gathered in His name, He is there Matthew 18:20. Prayer is essential, but so are actions.

Raising my hand, I would be the first to admit, my cancer advocacy is non-existent, but my husband and I have invested ourselves into where we feel most compelled and that is our church and the precious people that attend with us. I applaud those organizations and groups and research for what they are doing because those people helped me fight the fight. Thank you. But many times I get complacent and sit back and say, Life is Good. Those around me are doing well, too.

Let us make sure that those trials around us stay fresh in our minds. When the diagnosis is a few months removed, are we still praying for them? When that friend who was critically injured in a car wreck, they are home and their car is crushed at the salvage yard, are we still praying or calling them up and asking if they need anything today? When that special friend lost her little one, how is she doing? Pray today for them, and then act. Not sure what actions should be taken because I feel inferior in this area, but there has to be something out there we can do. Others are worth it, right? We have our own families to care for and those around us to invest in, I understand, but let us not forget about others where the Life is NOT so Good. They will remember us when it is our turn.

James 5:13-15, “Is any among you afflicted? let him pray. Is any merry? let him sing psalms. Is any sick among you?… ….And the prayer of the faith shall save the sick”… Galatians 5:13, “For, brethren, ye have been called unto liberty; only use not liberty for an occasion to the flesh, but by love serve one another.”

That’s What Friends Are For

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8/15/19

Spring/Summer 1996

Yes, I had the necklace above. And, yes, these type are still being bought by teens and kids today. I would have an extremely hard time keeping my head up if I had one for each of my friends over the years that I keep in contact with often, and then one for each of my friends who are in my life right now. I chuckle at the picture that comes to mind of me with an abundance of necklaces around my neck for each friend, but I also would know which one would stand for which friend and cherish them like I did when I was 15.

Friends. What does this word mean to us? When it is spoken, it triggers a picture or a thought in our minds. Sometimes we see a spouse or a close friend; other times we may picture a friend from our past. Our thoughts may include a feeling of relief, trust, a big hug. The word friend conjures up mostly good feelings because we have been through a lot with that person. They are super important to our lives as we live in a world of negativity and disappointment here and there.

The word FRIEND means “a person whom one knows and with whom one has a bond of mutual affection.” A friend is a person we know, a person with whom we have spent much time, shared many thoughts, and let down our guard showing our true self. We all know who our true self is, and many times a choice few people know that self. A spouse will most likely understand us the most and then family members whether they be a parent or child. A close friend whom we have spent hours with either at work, on the playground, or at church may also see that true self. It really is hard to hide when hours upon hours are shared with others. It is not a bad thing to be ourselves, but some people may think that because feelings get hurt, don’t they? Unfortunately, I tend to be an open book, to the chagrin of those closest to me. I am truly sorry, but thanks for loving me, all!

My sophomore year of college became one of the most important years of my life. I met friends that changed my life and are friends to this day. I can look back on that school year and as it was closing thought how important it would be for me stay in a spiritual place even without chapels, roommates, and classes. In the early spring, I had signed up for a summer at a church camp in Colorado. Being from Wyoming, I was super excited to be close to home, and although I had never been to the camp, was looking forward to spending time there and in that capacity. School ended and I headed home for a few weeks before trekking south for eight weeks of church camp. Growing up as a pastor’s kid, I had been at camp my whole life. Literally! My birthday is in the summer, and many a present and song were passed on to me at camp, even at five, six, seven. My parents brought us along since they were going. Fond memories, but I really enjoyed when it was my time to be a camper in junior high and high school.

God knew I needed to be at church camp for eight weeks that summer. It was a little nerve racking at first because we were assigned roommates for the little rooms we would stay in for the summer. They had two bunks on either side of the room with a bit of space in the middle as wide as the door frame. Close quarters, so we would need to get along somewhat. Unbeknownst to both of us assigned to one room, we would definitely be getting along. We became fast friends; ones who would have bought the necklace. This friend was not only just like me as a ministry kid, but planning to go to the same college in the fall that I was already attending! Uh, God? Yes! She encouraged me, prayed with me, and became what I needed to further my relationship with my True Friend. Any apprehension was all gone about leaving Bible college and what I had experienced that school year, and I spent another two months seeing God work in my life through the preaching and friendships created. My roommate was not the only person that God sent my way that summer. He provided Godly leadership and multiple “best friends;” such close friends, they were all in my wedding six years later.

And now back to cancer. Not only was the first weekend at camp scary, each of us were assigned a host family we would stay with on the weekends, or let us say for 36 hours, so we could do our laundry, sleep, and get a home cooked meal or a much needed out to eat. If I remember right, my first introduction to my host family was at church the day after orientation at the camp. One of the other camp workers and I met with a cute older couple that we would stay with the next weekend. They were so sweet, and we would soon be grateful for their beautiful home and cool basement, couches, and TV where we would spend the majority of our Saturday and Sunday afternoons sawing logs.

The first weekend we arrived, we were shown our room and the basement with laundry facilities. We ended up in the kitchen continuing small talk and getting to know each other. I looked around and low and behold smack dap in the middle of there refrigerator with business cards and calendars was my picture. When I got out of the hospital the first time, we had been told I would most likely lose my hair. My mom took me to a photographer downtown and had my picture done before my hair fell out. She wanted to put together a little prayer card to send to the hundreds of people that visited and sent cards, flowers, and gifts after hearing of my diagnosis. This sweet couple 400 miles from my little town in Wyoming to Denver, Colorado, had received my prayer card through the church and had been praying for me. When they had been told I was coming that summer, they had requested that I stay with them. They wanted to meet the subject of their prayers and get to know me. Uh, God? Yes!

Under no other circumstances can anyone make these things up. There is absolutely no way to even write books that have these kind of twists. Well, I guess there are books like this, but they are mostly fiction. This is real life with a real God. My God said, “Cancer, Rachelle.” I said, “Nope, not me.” But He did not listen, and decided my family and I needed this in our lives. Why do I have this little blog recounting the years of agony and defeat and hair loss and hurt and whys? Because the story is worth sharing for that one person that may be going through the same thing I did. Because the story is worth sharing for that other person that had a why? day. Because of the stories like the one above. Because…

That day in the kitchen of the sweetest couple ever, God showed me my story was not just mine. It was theirs as well. Before them stood an almost 20 year old that they heard about years before, had cancer, then received a prayer card, and prayed for her. She was now in their kitchen, totally healed and a walking miracle to them. Now this was OUR story. God also knew years later, our paths would cross again. One of them has passed on, but the other one is a member of the church I attend in Oklahoma. Friends for a lifetime on this earth.

But our friend for Eternity is Jesus, and there is not enough time to list all the verses that confirm that. John 15:13, “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.” Romans 5:8, “But God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.” We can receive that True Friend today and never want for another friend or thing to make us happy. But, I am so grateful God said Cancer, because of the people that He has brought into my life to call my friends and that call me friend. Friends are what make the world go round.

The Cocoon

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7/20/19

Just like that, all the words from my previous post have come to fruition. Our family has seen a new normal for now that was not planned less than a week ago. My s-u-m-m-e-r became very real to me and my family this week. Our Salvation was real close to us because we almost lost a significant part of our family who would have joined our Father in Heaven without His hand on the situation. We plan to stay Unmovable during this time of trial, because our God is who we serve and He is always there. We stay Mesmerized at the small steps that have been accomplished in our loved ones’ life every day. We cherish the pictures and the Moments we had and have with them at this time. We will Evaluate what God has placed before us and focus on the situation placed before us and the people sent our direction, because we need to be Ready to show them the love of our Almighty, All powerful, All Healing God!

Five seconds changed our families’ world. Now let us see what God will do with the rest of our seconds.

Fall 1995

Similar to this time in my families’ life, a very significant time in my life was my sophomore year of college. I had begun the year searching for something, anything that gave me a purpose and a reason for the crazy cancer fiasco that had come my way a few years before. God brought me a friend that was kind of in the same boat. We were able to fill a void of friendship for each other. God also spoke to me over and over in chapels and church services about my relationship with Him and that my life lived for Him should show others His love. Across my path, walked many people that had been affected by cancer. I grew closer to God than I had ever been. My testimony was shared in devotional time and given to teenagers at conferences. At the time, I was not aware of the significance of what God had done in the past, but saw small things here and there of how important it was to share my experience. I did not know what the future held for me, but knew I was doing what I was suppose to be doing at that time.

Recently, one of our children had to teach a lesson in their classroom about anything they were interested in. They chose the butterfly, and we ordered Painted Lady caterpillars online which were shipped to us through the mail. It was very exciting opening the box and seeing this small cup of insects inside. The caterpillars were shipped inside a cup that contained the food they would need to survive the process. The instructions were to leave them and watch them grow for a few days. It was amazing how in just a couple of days they doubled in size and continued to grow.

The next step was significant and all of sudden. We looked inside one day and four out of the six caterpillars were in a cocoon, and one of them was in the process, moving and wiggling around with the cocoon forming. In one day, they were finished and suspended in air from the lid of the cup. Instructions: wait a few more days and then we would see the butterflies emerge. Having caterpillars for pets was extremely easy; purchase them, get them in the mail, open them up, set them on the counter, and watch. Love pets, but most of the time it is a ton more work! We literally walked into the kitchen one day and the butterflies had emerged. They were so pretty, and it had been a fascinating process. Oh, and super easy! Next instructions: watch the butterflies for a few days, feed them with sugar water, and then release them to do their job in the flower world. I am sure that we could find many a caterpillar outside and see the magic happen over again. We, however, enjoyed the easy online order and process we took to see the cool metamorphosis.

As they studied the caterpillar and gathered information about the changing into a butterfly, I became very aware of the significance of the cocoon. Without the cocoon, the caterpillar stays just that; a caterpillar. The cocoon is where all the magic happens. This is very similar to the Christian life. During the time of life where I was going through cancer there was much wiggling and movement while the cocoon was forming. I feel like the time I spent in college figuring out my purpose in life was the same. Every step of the way to this point has most likely been the same, or the cocoon has formed and I am just being transformed. At whatever point in the process that I am in, heaven will be when I emerge and am made new. Thank goodness for the cocoon; it is such an important part of the caterpillar’s life, as it is in mine.

We could say that God is that part in our life that protects and changes us to be more like Him. God’s word tells us in Job 23:10 of Job speaking to those around him about the devastation that he had just endured. He lost his family, livelihood, and body and still he said these amazing words speaking of God: “But he knoweth the way that I take: when he hath tried me, I shall come forth as gold.” We will come forth as gold. No matter the easy road, the hard road, the protection and comfort we have in our Heavenly Father will always be there. Nothing that we go through on this earth compares to the trial that Jesus Christ went through as He stood before men as a man in the same flesh we are in and was tried and sentenced to death. He was placed on the cross and in agony and pain took the sin of the whole world upon Him so that we may be saved. Even though we are tried and sometimes suffer, we get to come forth out of the cocoon to live eternally with Him. Hallelujah!

Dog Days of Summer

7/5/19

Summer 1995

The end of a school year in May just means the beginning of S – U – M – M – E – R. A whole new season, a whole new schedule, and a whole lot of time for fun. My freshmen year of college was over, and I had made the decision to stick around because the tutoring went into overdrive in the summer. I would have 40 hours a week from the first week and all summer without going home and trying to find a job with the same amount of hours. It was well worth not getting to go home to be able to pay for my semester when I returned in the fall. I had a great summer in LA that year with friends and family that lived a couple of hours away.

At the time of this article, summer is in full swing with another 4th of July in the books. We have spent the week watching fireworks and setting off a good number of small whistling and popping ones ourselves. The summer is around halfway through and the “dog days” are just around the corner. The household suitcases have been in full use twice, with another round coming up shortly. I have decided to not even walk them back to their hideaway in the attic until school starts. They will see three trips between now and then anyway. Why bother? It comes with the season. But for some that is not necessarily true. Summer does not mean trips for everyone depending on their occupation. This time of year can be the busiest time of year for certain people, where they spend other seasons traveling. In our area, landscapers, baseball players, pool companies, etc… use this time to make a living for their families.

Whatever summer means to each of us, it still stands for something; it is a new time in our life as the seasons continually change. Time does not stand still, so what should we do when summer rolls around? Ponder. Here are a few words that came about when I sat and pondered my summer.

S – Salvation. For today, the first letter of summer will stand for the most important aspect of a Christian’s life. When salvation is mentioned, what is the first thought that comes to mind? Mine is Jesus. Because of His death on the cross as payment for my sin, I trusted in Him as my Savior and received salvation. A sigh of relief; for if my summer changes and my life is taken from me, I know where I will go. Do all of us know? Remember the S in summer.

U – Unmovable. Christianity is a hard road to follow because of the different turnoffs that present themselves. There are many side roads with a small sign that can divert a person when things may be hard or weary or if we are not focused on the Lord and task at hand. It can be easy to make a quick turn thinking that we will find the main road again; we just need a quick diversion. We take a road trip each summer and sometimes purposely take a side road to see a famous landmark. A couple of times, it took us a lot longer to return to the main road than we had thought and our arrival time was pushed back. Diversions can set us off course. Determined to stay on the hard road and unmovable no matter the cost is difficult but doable.

M – Mesmerized. “Our God is an awesome God, who reigns from Heaven above, with wisdom, power, and love. Our God is awesome God.” We should stay in awe of our awesome God. I was speaking to someone this week about the prayers they prayed for a quick trip to the store. “Keep the lights green, the lines short, the prescription ready, the rain at bay, until we return home.” They were so grateful He answered those prayers. I have found myself in the same situation hundreds of times, no exaggeration. Do we really expect the answers? I believe we do, and then we stay mesmerized by our God.

M – Moments. Each moment is a gift. Those laughs and giggles, those fights and arguments; they could all go away and then we wish for them back. We need to keep the moments precious down to the very seconds. In a previous blog, I mentioned how important a five seconds should be to each of us. I am amazed at how in a few seconds, our lives are on a different track. A second is how long it takes to change forever.

E – Evaluate. What is our purpose and are we living it out? I believe most people have an understanding of their purpose. They have evaluated their life and know they, as Christians, are here to live a life for God, serving Him with their whole hearts. We should also evaluate our attitudes, our thoughts, our words, our actions. A reminder is good for us.

R – Ready. A Christian should be ready at all times to show others of God’s love for them. The checkout line may not have been the time to give the cashier a gospel tract, but a “have a great day” gives them and those that are in earshot a new thought for a few seconds, and it only takes that second for them to show someone else the same kindness. And the pay it forward continues. Ready to be a Christian? Just answering that question personally is thought provoking. Yes, I am ready, but do I have to be? My flesh asks the other question. Just being honest.

Summer can mean many things. The letters can stand for any number of words. What they mean to us just takes a few moments to ponder and then put into action. Making our summer challenge to be a better person with a purpose will bring the next season of life into focus. We must choose to be a Christian; choose “Love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance” Galatians 5:22. Why? Because they are the fruit of the Spirit, and we are the fruit of His Spirit.

The Road Ahead Looks Great

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6/11/19

Fall 1994/Spring 1995

With the brother in a better health situation, my mind could focus on the task at hand. The college life kept moving ahead with day after day of classes and book work. I was able to secure a fantastic job as a private tutor at a tutoring service in a nearby city. It was a fulfilling job because I was a teacher at heart and hoping to get my degree in that field. The hours were perfect; leave school at 2:15pm to start teaching at 3:00pm and clock out at 8pm for the drive home. It was a solid 30 minute drive on the streets of the suburbs of east LA. Most drives were uneventful, and it was basically a straight shot down Arrow Highway.

On occasion the drive was abnormal. A couple of us from school worked at the tutoring service, so we would carpool. One trip, my friend and I were talking and having a good ole’ time, and a guy started yelling at us with his window down, pointing at the ground. We were a tad nervous, because, well this is LA. I soon realized I was driving on a flat tire, pulled over, and we took a look. Since we were not in the tire changing business, looking for the items to change the tire was an ordeal, and the lug nut turning never happened. We were weaklings to say the least. My friend was a blond beauty so many a honk came our way, and one guy stopped in front of us and turned around with a car phone. We waved him on, very nervous; again this is LA. She ran across the street to a pay phone and paged a friend, who showed up and changed the tire. We got back in the car, and it would not start! Our friend was able to help get it going, and we headed to work, late for our first appointments.

When we were stopped at the side of that road with a flat tire, we soon noticed we were on a long stretch of highway that did not have a gas station. Well, before that fateful day, this particular stretch of highway was the best time to get up speed and catch up on time if we were running behind. It had, in the past, been our saving grace when we needed help to get where we needed to go on time. That road was not looking so great those few moments. Our perspective changed in an instance, and we never did look at it the same again. We chuckled about what happened there when we would pass by, and I can go to that spot today and point it out.

Stories of road mishaps can be told by all, but it is amazing that there are not more of them, when we travel well worn paths in the concrete on a daily basis. Many times we take for granted that road, the familiar stop sign or stop light, the same neighborhoods and businesses… Our surroundings do not change but unless our circumstances do, we typically do not notice or we pay little attention to them. When the circumstances change, we then notice. Same with our lives, right? Day by day, we try to live a life that has meaning and fulfillment; focusing on our families, focusing on our relationship with God, focusing on our church family, focusing on… We can fill in the blank with whatever we narrow down our focal points. It is what we are supposed to do, but then the flat tire comes along and what happens?

First off, our physical reactions to the flat tire are super important to discuss. This subject hits close to home, because in the last few years, I have been confronted by the way I react. I truly and purposefully try to be better, not always successful but am grateful for those around me that confront me and give me grace. It is incredibly important to keep my relationship with God strong, which keeps my focus on Him strong when the flat tires come along. I try to remind myself of the following illustration all the time: people are like tea bags; when things around them get hot and boiling, what is on the inside comes out. If we have that relationship with God, and we do not like what we see when it is hot and boiling, there should be a time of reflection on what changes could be made.

Second off, the flat tire changes our perspective; it becomes a reminder. It becomes a place when time, people, places changed, and we have a different perspective. There are many new perspectives that have come along in my life, but cancer was a big one for me. I saw myself as a teenager with a whole life in front of her, and in one week the flat tire changed my perspective to, “Wait a minute, what life?” There is not much life to be had when you wake up from surgery screaming in agony, not having a clue what is happening. When you hear your mom say to someone, “How am I supposed to tell her she has cancer?” When you realize you have an eighteen inch long incision on your stomach and an IV hanging out of your chest. When you see yellow and red liquid going into your body that the doctors say are supposed to get you back to being a teenager.

New perspective? You betcha. I may have not realized it for years to come, but that flat tire gave me a new look at a road I had been traveling on. I eventually became grateful for it, and the road ahead looked great. Jeremiah 29:13 says just that, “For I know the thoughts I think toward you, saith the Lord, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end.” Psalm 119:105, “Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path.” So grateful for God’s road I am on!

Do You Remember When…?

5/21/19

Fall 1994

What about the time that we …? Do you remember when…? It feels like yesterday that I was riding a bike down our alley to go to the church where my dad was a pastor. We lived a street over, and between the row of houses there was an alley where we would ride to and from the church and our school which was across the street from the church. I remember the house and my room with a large picture window. The house was two bedrooms and two bathrooms with a dining room and eat in kitchen. My parents closed off the door from the kitchen to the dining room, and it became my bedroom. It had large windows on one side where I was certain to keep the bed as far away from them as possible. I loved that room. It was somewhat decorated girly, but most of my time was spent outside with my brother who was a year younger. Our other brother was born around this time.

We had the coolest trees in the front and back yards, and we did our dead level best to conquer them all, and they in return tried to do the same to us. The tree in the front was graciously used for sitting and talking and, one time, swinging with a sheet tied between two branches. It was not too fond of that because the swing lasted a few seconds and sent me crashing to the ground, breaking my collar bone. The five, large pecan trees in the back had an amazing crop of pecans that we turned in for money, which was well worth the time spent picking them up. The trees also had the best branches for climbing extremely high, but once sent my brother to the hospital with two broken arms. Although we had our share of mishaps, we have our share of fond memories that are cherished to this day.

In my cancer journey, a trip down memory lane brings me to the point where I had recently registered for college in Southern California and am fully engulfed in my freshman year. I had a quick turnaround from Ms. Independent to Ms. Homesick. I missed my family greatly, and it was not just the fact that I was not in the same house anymore. My brother was having a medical scare of his own. My parents had taken him to the doctor who had given him the news that he had cancer cells. He had surgery to remove a tumor and cells which were localized and not spread to any other locations. But the biopsy and a return trip showed the cancer could show up anywhere in his body. This sent my parents back into Cancer Parent mode, and they began the cancer journey again for the third time in five years. They chose along with my brother’s consent, who was almost 16 at the time, not to treat with chemotherapy and radiation. Just return trips for scans and monitoring. He never had another reoccurrence!

We were so grateful and took a sigh of relief that he would not have any treatment like I had to go through. I remember being in the dorm at college and asking roommates and housemates to pray for him, his surgery, and the diagnosis. I had so many people informed and praying, and I felt like if God could heal me, He would heal my brother as well. Really never doubted but was anxious all the same. I think my family kept me minimally informed about what he had to go through. Nonetheless, he is another sign of God’s healing hand for our family, because when cancer is diagnosed, the whole family is involved.

This memory of God’s intervention was impactful. I saw God in a whole new light because before, my cancer was my cancer, and He would be giving me my life back. My mom’s diagnosis the same time as mine, was not as impactful maybe because I was a little distracted. When my brother faced the same thing, it changed my perspective of the disease. I saw it as a threat, something that was going to take family from me. I was not ok with that at all. When everything turned out so well, I mean “so well?”, how can cancer have a “so well” result? Anyway, it was a good ending. God became real to me. I learned that freshman year that my daily walk with Him was an essential part of my Christian life. I also learned about making wise decisions when the decision making is in your court for the first time. Boy, I was shown time and again that my decisions were very important to my future and would need to be bathed in prayer. I learned that my study habits from high school were strong which helped me with the intense college grind. College can pound you with the schedule, papers, tests; the work load can at times be relentless. But pushing ahead and working hard will pay off. My freshman year was no exception, and it started off with a cancer diagnosis?!?!

Three people diagnosed with cancer within a few years of each other. How does that happen? Medically, my parents have spoken to specialists. But we understand that God did it this way for a reason. We have individually seen time and again why He brought cancer into our bodies. For me, my brother’s journey really helps solidify God in my life. Stories like this, or memories, are endless for us and would take volumes upon volumes of books to catalogue each instance how God revealed why the diagnosis of cancer was made in our three lives. Our memories are used to make new memories for us and then for someone else who might be experiencing cancer, and the cycle repeats.

Memories of our past can cause pain and can cause happiness. They can cause frustration and can cause joy. A memory may have been a learning experience or a turning point in our lives that made us a better person. Many of us have old memories of a life lived without God and new memories with Him as our Savior. We can rejoice in our salvation when the “old things are passed away” and “all things are become new” II Corinthians 5:17. I am truly thankful for memories, and ask the Lord when the memory is not so pleasant to help me not be bitter or learn from what transpired. It does not always happen that way, but I want to be aware. As I write each article, memories of how the events transpired come back and reveal to me how blessed I am; how amazing God has been to me.

Senoritis, Cars, and Five Seconds

4/9/19

Fall 1993

And then there was one! One more year of high school, and I was outta there! My senior year was memorable, exciting, and so much work.

My academic career up to this point had been a boatload of hard work; granted I hit a brick wall in eighth grade that could have sent me in a downward spiral. I had around 3 months of my eighth grade year where I was on chemotherapy, all of ninth grade, and around 2 months of tenth grade. The eighth grade teachers were gracious in my school work load; even though I finished every paper sent home, I missed that instruction time for about a month plus chemo days. There was a plan in ninth and tenth where we would leave school at the very last minute, miss a couple of classes and then the next day. Those afternoon classes suffered quite a bit my freshman year. But still the teachers were helpful and let me come after school for a refresher course if I had any questions.

The one thing that was a life saver for me was the fact I was unable to take the PE classes because of the broviac and the risk of having my chest hit by a ball. I was an aide for the office where I could work on school work after the office duties. Still there was a struggle with the missed instruction time in class. Especially Spanish! Hard work kept me at about a B average, and in 10th and 11th with more class time, more A’s appeared on my report card.

So the beloved senior year came around the corner with a lack of a “sluff off” “senioritis” type of entrance. I had a full load of classes including AP English, AP Calculus (for the second time), Geometry, and Girl’s Jazz Choir. I chose to take Calc again because a repeated class might result in a better grade which was a C my junior year. I was determined to work extra hard this year because there was only one chance to see an improvement in my grades and graduate with the best GPA I had seen on my report card up to this point. I was very much aware of a younger brother who spent substantially less hours working on homework and receiving substantially better grades every single time. What can I say, both our results came naturally, but I was determined to catch up. Last chance!

Along with senior year came my past medical history, so that was never far away from every day life. I walked into school in September with a gorgeous head of hair which was down to my shoulders, a repaired heart, and driver’s license. I was a July baby so I was literally the last person in my junior class to get a license; it was such a bummer. No really, big bummer. But I was now in the driving crowd and had the coolest car in the world, too. Well, since it was free from my parents, it was extremely cool. How many of us remember our first car? Um, most likely the majority of people we ask will remember. This car was a 1979 Chrysler New Yorker, 15 years old, and a classic. It had a leather interior, a trunk the size of a train car, and two full rows of seats. I quickly became the driver for off campus lunch!

A month after school started, I had my two-year follow-up visit in Salt Lake City. These visits were now enjoyable beyond words. I did not dread the road trip anymore. My mom and I went to this appointment and kind of planned to make it a day. Scan days are always a bit anxious, but we had only one scare in the past three and half years, and that was not even from my results, just an overheard conversation. That day, we had a CT scan, blood work, chest X-rays, and a cardiologist appointment. My heart looked really good, and, of course, I had not had any SVT episodes. My oncology results came back normal as well, and the doctor came in to have a discussion.

They were going to give me the “Cure” diagnosis. What does that mean? We had heard the word remission which means that the signs and symptoms of cancer are reduced, but does cure mean really cured? It means that there are no traces of cancer after treatment and that the cancer that type should never come back. Yes, it really means cured. I began with a cancerous tumor throughout my whole abdomen, three months later not a trace of any cancer cells, three and half years later… Mom and I were overjoyed. The doctor explained a few things to us about side effects of chemotherapy in the future. A very obvious side effect is infertility. Of the drugs given in my protocol, two were most likely to cause egg damage, and since a girl has all her eggs at birth, they can be highly effected by chemo. Ok, that was not really what I wanted to hear, but I accepted it, thinking in the back of my mind that I would be invincible from that just like I was when I was going through treatments. At 13, 14, and 15, cancer was just a nuisance, and I did not comprehend that what I had gone through was really life changing for me. Being older and hearing those words, put reality into perspective.

The doctors would like to see me each year as long as I was in the area to keep monitoring me and basically mark it down how I was doing with the side effects. We would continue those visits until we moved my senior year of college.

My mom and I were extremely excited for the diagnosis. Mom decided we would go get my senior pictures done while we were down there to celebrate this amazing news. We had spent so many, many seconds, that added up to minutes and cumulated into day’s worth of agony from hearing bad news. That can really get a person into a bad place emotionally. It can put someone into a thinking process that all hope is lost, that there is nothing worth pushing forward for. “You have cancer,” takes how long to say? Five seconds? And yet those five seconds mean more to some people in a lifetime than any other five seconds they will ever have. Changes our lives forever. So cliché, but it changes our lives forever. Other five seconds have words in them like: there was an accident… I have found someone else… it’s a boy… you may kiss your bride… Not all five seconds have a gut punch, but a rejoicing time, and they can change things for us dramatically.

Take five seconds today to say I love you or thanks for being there for me or have a great day. It may not be that one life changing five seconds that person will encounter in their years here on earth, but it may be added up with other five seconds that help them when they do. When faced with trials, a person needs hope. A God I know gives that hope. I had Him during my trial, and He is still holding me in His hand today. He gave me strength, power, and hope even though He knew about the cancer before I did. I want to live a life that remembers that often; I know I will not remember it every five seconds, but I pray that it will be often.

James 4:14 “Whereas ye know not what shall be on the morrow. For what is your life? it is even a vapour, that appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth away.”

MY God healed MY body and gave me MY life back. It is MY duty to live it for Him, because I do not know about tomorrow.

Health, Not to be Taken for Granted

3/12/19

Today is the 29th anniversary of when my cancer journey began. I went to the first doctor’s appointment on this day, and that doctor had a small part in saving my life…

“Don’t take that for granted.” Health is a gift we are given each and every morning we wake up, and each and every minute of every day of every week of each year. To take something for granted means to underestimate the value or expect it to always be available. When our health is compromised, boy, it sure makes us look at its value. How often do we think about the chance that it may be our last minute on this earth? I do not mean to live in a place of fear that we may die, but live in a place of realization we have to make each minute count. I think about it often. About once a week, I wake up with the prayer of thanksgiving to God for the breath I have for another day.

Very unplanned, but it just so happens that today I am getting ready to head to a doctor’s appointment for a physical. For the most part since cancer, the effects of chemotherapy have not raised their ugly head. Chemotherapy is very hard on a body; most people understand the physical effects. The long term effects have made their way into my life in recent years, and even hitting the forty year old mark has added to my demise. I have heard people say once they hit forty they had all these new health problems. I say to myself that age was really what I am dealing with, but I have had confirmation from a doctor or two that we are dealing with chemotherapy effects. Well, if I got almost 30 years of a healthy life, I feel pretty good about it. Now along the way to this point, my husband and I dealt with the emotions of infertility, and that is another story I will share.

Skiing down the mountains in Colorado on a green run with my son a few years back, turned into a torn ACL and a silly trip on the medic sled. I had made a hard stop because he had fallen and down I went. Within a few weeks, a trip to the doctor in the nearby town and one at home, a replaced ACL, and crutches for a week because the doctor did not want any weight on it. No weight is not the typical pre-op instruction, but he had some concerns. At my follow-up the doctor explained that once he was in surgery, he had seen what he thought was AVN or a blood loss in certain spots of the bone that he attached the new ACL to, so I would need to be on crutches for eight weeks. Good as gold in the seven years following and a return to the slopes; although my skiing is not as crazy or hard core. Within the last year, I have had pain and the doctor said the AVN is progressing and laid out options. He confirmed AVN would be an effect of chemo.

This is one of a few things that I have dealt with in the last year. Not all have been associated with treatment, but it has become real to me that I may be dealing with a whole new way of looking at health now. I do not want to take for granted what health I have been given as something may be taken from me in the near future. The use of my knee is very much still there, it is just painful to do certain things. In addition, my sight has been compromised, lately, and health became even more important to me than in the past. I am very interested in laying all these things out on the table today at my physical, and hear his thoughts. Once a person has cancer they just need the confirmation each year that they are doing ok. They just cannot go each year without blood work or a physical to let them know everything is good. I moved away from all of my oncologists and the hospital that treated me, so finding someone to take you on is a little uneasy.

You see, about ten years ago I walked into this doctor’s office ready to meet a doctor that could keep track of me. I had told my OB/GYN that I really should find a doctor because of my history, unbeknownst to me she was married to an adult medicine doctor. She told me about him, and my husband and I set up an appointment. The doctor was pretty excited to see me because as he put it, his “group of doctors specialize in adults with childhood cancers.” What a God-send! We have had complete work-ups, and I have come out in really good health. Praise the Lord.

Living life makes it easy to take health for granted because living life involves so much. Home life, family, work, church, sports; all of these things keep us so busy that losing our life the next minute is further from our thoughts. But I think that is ok, because I believe that God put me and each person on this earth for a purpose; to live a life for Him. When we go throughout our day, it should be our thought to give God the glory for each breath, for each healthy part of our body, and for each unhealthy. The use of arms, fingers, knees, backs, are all gifts from God. I really do thank Him for the fingers I have to type this blog article, my sight to see the words on the screen, and my back to be able to sit up. Call me crazy, but I want to encourage us to think about all the little things to be thankful.

I had a journal last year that I started writing a 1000 things to be thankful for. I really must go back to that this year and keep going because I never did finish, even though at one sitting I could write down 50. A couple of the things I wrote I was thankful for were the drips in the faucet which reminded me that we have running water, and the piano practice with the beautiful and not so beautiful notes. The little things add up and remind us how wonderful it is to be alive and have the health we have. Please remember those little things and live a life for God today. It may change tomorrow.

Hope and the Dream Fulfilled

flower bloom spring

2/27/19

For those who are keeping up with the blog timeline, this week I was able to write up a second post which is a memory from the first summer after diagnosis. I inserted it into the timeline so it should appear on November 16, 2018. It is called, “The Last Time We…”

Spring 1992

I hit the two-year mark since my diagnosis on March 15, 1992, and cancer was a thing of the past. We had gone back to the hospital in January, and they had removed the IV tube from my chest. Now that was a really interesting feeling, but we won’t go into any more details! I was now living the teenager life. I enjoyed my favorite past times even more: shopping, talking on the phone, and hanging out with friends. At forty-seven, my past times have not really changed much, but I have added hanging out with my husband and children to the top of the list! I enjoyed monthly youth rallies with our youth group at regional churches in the Salt Lake area and school choir concerts and performances.

I was in tenth grade in our local high school. Call me crazy, but I recently found report cards and testing scores from high school. Why mention them here? I was amazed at what I found, because I had just spent months on chemotherapy and fighting cancer. I refused to stay at home or wear a mask to school. I was determined to not change my life for this even though it was changing my life. In April of my 10th grade, we were given state testing, and I scored above grade level in most everything. I was taking Spanish II, Pre-Calc, English, Science, Art and Choir along with being an aide; and I had about a 3.5/3.6. How does that happen?! I spent most of my afternoons after school doing schoolwork, and I had great teachers that would allow students to pop in before or after school for a little extra instruction. Plus, we kept them posted about my absences, and they would send home my homework when I left for treatments. I worked really hard; my GPA never really improved, but at least I stayed consistent.

Life was even more exciting for me, because I had been watching my brothers play sports for the last two years, and now it was time to join them. I had missed the opportunity to play at the high school because most of the time a person really has to make it freshmen year. They try to make the team then and see playing time, improve skills, and learn to play with each other; then the next year is a bit easier. I decided not to jump in, knowing I was behind on the ability chart. Being the spring, track was about all that I was interested in, and hurdles ate my lunch when I tried them in 8th grade. They went up to about my chest anyway. Everyone else that ran in track had these amazing long legs that could cover 8 to 10 feet with each stride. My two to three-foot span was not idle for running track, although I was fast as a kid, in my mind. Ha! So high school sports aside, I joined the local city girls fast pitch softball league. Some of the same girls that I went to school with and who played volleyball and basketball at school played for the league, too, so that made me feel better.

My brothers started the spring season in their perspective leagues. The oldest played Babe Ruth and the youngest played T-ball. Back then our little town had one four-plex that had all three size fields, and I remember on more than one occasion dad walking around from field to field watching all three of us play at the same time but at different fields. On my team, I quickly became the right fielder, then third base, and did quite well, but I am pretty sure I had the most strikeouts and walks. Either I would swing and strikeout, or I would crouch down really low where the pitcher had a minuscule strike zone and would walk me. By the next season, I figured out the batting part, because our coach told us to let the first pitch go and then on the strikes start your swing sooner than you expect to make contact. I had such a great time!

The next two years would be follow-up oncology doctor’s visits to do blood work and keep an eye on the remission I was in. In addition, we had cardiology visits to determine the next step with the heart problem that we just kept at bay during the treatments. It had not gone away so we needed to make some decisions. But, I really enjoyed the new life of activity and school all the more. Along with my past papers I mentioned above, I found other things like a huge stack of my medical reports and then a couple of school papers I wrote in English in the early fall. My English teacher kept us going with writing papers and poems. I remember she wanted us to tell about a dream we had for our life. One poem sums up my cancer experience in only a way I could tell it, and at the time we had just had the reoccurrence scare. I want to share it. (I typed it up exactly how I had typed it back then.)

Dream Fulfilled

Did I fulfill my dream, or did I waste my time?

No, this dream is accomplished, I know, in my mind

I will have gone through and finish my treatments.

Will I be ready if I have to start again?

This time will I be cured, or have to go back in?

Can I handle the pain, and keep back the tears?

The first time was hard, in the hospital on the bed

Catching up on schoolwork after I miss 2 days, I dread.

Will it all be worth it, in the end?

I think it will be

I am alive, and well, you see

With the help and support from my friends.

Most people send mail

My dream is fulfilled, and I am alive and well.

I like reading over this, because it opens up many thoughts that people go through when going through a trial. The uncertainty is definitely the underlying tone, not just because the poem is about a dream. The hope of life and health is a close second underlying tone. Lastly, the support shown did not get lost in the hard façade that I kept up for others to see. Those people made a huge impact in my ability to fight this disease. A trial takes on a whole new meaning when others are by our side. And a dream of health, full head of hair, good grades, sports, and a new life was at the forefront of my mind.

Dreams and hope. My life verse came to me after my husband and I were married, and trying to have children. It really sums up everything I have faced. Proverbs 13:12 says, “Hope deferred maketh the heart sick; but when the desire cometh, it is a tree of life.” Hope is very real is our lives. We hope we see family again, we hope we get a raise this year, we hope for children, for health, for safety… There are times when God says wait; let Me show you later. It makes our heart hurt when we cannot see the big picture; it gives us a heavy heart which I spoke about in the last blog post. But then after the hope is deferred for a certain amount of time, the desire comes and it is even more special because of the waiting period. Maybe it is because we know our dream will be fulfilled.

A Day in The Life of a Teenager

selfie 1

1/28/19

October 1991

Have we ever thanked God for our hair? Many people, many teenagers and women, sometimes do the opposite with their hair. It is funny because I have had this conversation a hundred times with others. If someone has straight hair, which I raise my hand right now because mine is stick straight, those people look at someone with curly hair and may want just an iota of those waves. Then someone with curly hair may look at those with straight hair and think it would be nice to have less curls. No matter the texture of the hair we have, it might be a thought that runs through our mind what it would be like to have curly? Straight? Short? Long? But have we ever thanked God for the hair we have been given by God?

When I was bald and nearing the end of my chemotherapy regimen, I told myself that once my hair grew out I would never complain about my hair or a bad hair day ever again. Now, I do not think that I have stuck to that statement, but bad hair days hardly happen because I am constantly reminded what it was like to have no hair for more than two years of my life. At the ages of 13, 14, and 15 to be exact! I spent those years in a wig and worrying about it coming off in the wind walking into school or a store or some place that I would be totally devastated if someone saw me. I did not embrace the bald is beautiful, but I think that is ok. Each and every chemo patient can be confident in different things about their situation, and no two people are alike when faced with this disease. Why do I say that? Because a cancer patient has to have confidence in something, or it is a struggle to live.

I was truly confident in other things about my cancer. In the back of my mind I knew that I may not get well and have a normal life again, but those thoughts were so far back there, they only surfaced a couple of times. The confidence that I was going to get well and have a normal life again were prominent. They pushed me every day to get out of bed, get dressed, go to school, work really hard at my classwork, come home and work really hard on homework, go to bed, and do it again the next day. My brothers and parents kept things normal for me as well with breakfast together, and bike riding, and sporting events, and Saturday morning cartoons. Those thoughts of normalcy pushed me to live a life of a teenager that many can relate to. I really kept cancer away, which makes me chuckle because it was so prominent in my every day life, especially when I took off my hair to shower and go to bed. I focused on friendships and the good and bad that came with that, like “Why was she mad at me?” or “I cannot believe she did that!” to “I think he likes me.” When I look back on my diaries during these years, they went somewhat like this:

“Today I had a history test and failed it so bad, and we started our songs in girl’s Jazz choir for the spring concert. I am so excited! So and so and me get to go shopping tomorrow in SLC. I really need a new shirt really bad to go with my new shoes. When we get done my mom is taking us to eat at… So and so at school likes so and so, and I like him, too, but he will not even look at me. I am just going to forget him and find someone else to like! He is not worth it. I had chemo Monday.”

As I flipped through my beloved diaries from this time of cancer and chemo, no lie, every single one of them were just like the above paragraph. Trying to be confident in normalcy? You bet. Cancer patient? Definitely, just a teenage one at that. In all areas of life, I believe we have to have a positive outlook, a confidence in something. I put my trust in the Lord Jesus Christ when I after diagnosis, and I did and can fully, 100% trust Him to love me, guide me, direct me, and heal me. I put my confidence and trust in Him 100%, but during this time in my teenager mind, I had to tell myself, “Just be normal,” and those words gave my teenager mind a better outlook for my situation, and I believe it really helped me feel better. It did not heal my body, but it healed my mind.

Also, at the forefront of my mind was the fact that my last scheduled chemotherapy was in October. The month before we had the virus scare thinking it had returned. We walked into this chemo with excitement and hesitation because we had questions about the future. Before I started on my drip, we met with the oncologist. My mom asked questions about what we should expect within the next few months, which the doctor said he would see us in three months for a scan unless there were any concerns before that. At that time, they would remove the broviac because I would hopefully no longer be needing it. I would continue to return every three months until the one year mark, and then every six months for a couple of years, and then every year up to five years from the last treatment. At this time, the term “cure” would be assigned if there was no reoccurrence or chance of reoccurrence. Wow, so this was not going away for a long time for me. But I would not be returning at this time for any more treatments. We were really excited with the prognosis.

We also discussed my body and the side effects of the chemotherapy long term. Two of the drugs were known to cause infertility and the fact that I had one ovary removed because of the cancer, I should realize that having a family might be difficult when the time came. I thought about that discussion, and it bothered me, but I also thought that having a family would pass on my cells that were at one time cancerous. I would later come to a conclusion that I would never want to bring a child into this world and have to have them go through what I went through. No way, no how. It did not seem logical or kind to do such a thing to someone. But I was not fully trusting in God with that frame of mind. My future was still quite blurry; like most people.

Philippians 1:6 tells us that we can be confident in the gospel, Christ, who has begun a good work in us and will perform it until He comes back. My confidence may have been in things outside of Christ, like trying to live a normal life going through cancer treatments, but that confidence always fell back on the fact that God gave me that life to live. I realized I could have died and God saved me. I realized that I could not do this, and wanted to quit, but God gave me new medicines. I realized that the cancer might be back one month before the last chemotherapy, but God was just checking out our confidence in Him. All the bumps in the road got me to this last chemotherapy with a fully renewed life and trust in my God who actually brought me to this last chemotherapy.

The Roller Coaster

ride 2

1/14/19

Summer 1991

How could the adventures within the last few months have been so amazing and actually occurred while I was on treatments for a disease that takes lives every day? It was a pretty wonderful experience. And, yet we had to return to reality that I was on treatments for a… Yes, reality hit me right in the face, right back to Salt Lake City and chemotherapy. It was the summer months again, so we were able to head down early to treatments and enjoy fun times at large area parks, shopping, and there was even a small amusement park in a nearby suburb with roller coasters.

We had to go early in the morning, because there was absolutely no chance we could enjoy anything afterwards. Chemotherapy hit me pretty hard, and if it was the one with a spinal tap, I was in worse shape. Salt Lake was eighty miles away from home, so we would prepare for a rough ride home, because when you leave the city, you climb up through a canyon. It is a major interstate, but it winds back and forth up the mountain and then straightens out after twenty miles or so. There was also another back and forth halfway between there and home. Car sickness is no comparison to chemo, but when you combine the two, not the best situation. Sorry Utah, I really did try to make it without stopping! Even though the trip was hard, we were so grateful to be as close as we were to an amazing hospital.

This was our second summer traveling back and forth for chemo. My prognosis was fantastic, no signs of any cancer since the doctors closed up my stomach, gave me a 30% chance to leave the hospital, and started me on chemotherapy the next day. We had another set of scans right between the two big trips, and they came back clear again. The last treatment would be sometime in October if my blood counts stayed good, and the doctors did not have to bump me back a week. My heart was staying under control with the medicine, and there would be an evaluation after chemo was over on the next step to get me off the medicine. I was healthy, happy, and enjoying my teen life. I just got my permit on my birthday, and school was about to start. I would be going into my third year of school on these treatments: spring of eighth to, Lord willing, fall of tenth grade. The end could not get here fast enough. I wanted to be a normal high school student. One brother was entering high school with me, and the other was going into first grade. Our church was doing really well. My parents had reached out to co-workers who had joined the church body, and the youth group was growing. I had some very special friends during this time at school and church that made my world go round. We had some amazing fun times together!

Yet, I started to struggle with some unusual symptoms that needed immediate attention. We headed down to the hospital to do a series of scans. Concerns about a recurrence were prominent. The scans were a disaster to get completed. I kept throwing up the barium, and they would have to start over. My mom finally told them to shove a tube down my nose and then we could pour straight into the stomach. It worked, and we were able to finish, and head back to the treatment room. For three hours, no one told us anything. It was very unusual to wait and not be given any information. We were certain the cancer was back, and mom and I were physically sick. Mom had made arrangements for being out of the office for an uncertain amount of time and made phone calls to the insurance company. After an excruciating amount of time, the doctor came in to tell us we would need to come back in the morning for more scans. We desperately needed him to tell us what the scans said, and he informed us they were clear, but they needed further tests to figure out why I was sick. The emotional down that we had experienced for the last few hours was almost unbearable. My life was hanging on by a rope, and no one informed us it really was not. Situations like this are a par for the course in the medical world. They did not do anything wrong; they have hundreds of patients and dozens in a given day that need attention, cry for attention, need a hand to get through some of the most difficult times in their lives. Hats off to the medical profession. Emotional roller coasters are in everyone’s handbook. Theirs just has to be under control and then make life changing decisions for other people.

But, boy, do I love the real deal roller coasters. I am on the petite side, and I did not get to enjoy coasters when I was younger until later than most because I could never reach that silly mark on the sign. Pretty sure my brother beat me to it. We were fourteen months apart, and because I was smaller, we were very similar in height. When I was three, the scissors and hair became one, and my mom and I did not. She had to take me to a barber to get it fixed, and I walked out looking like my brother. She had questions about her twin boys for a few months, so she made sure she put me in dresses as often as possible. Anyway, after much begging, pleading, and tiptoeing, I was able to get on that first roller coaster at Six Flags Over Texas. On the way up, I knew this was the wrong idea, and my aunt had to keep me from jumping out. I swore off coasters until I was in junior high and fell in love with them. They do not scare me at all; granted I am nervous on the big ones. Back and neck problems have changed my ability to ride them in this stage of life, but I miss the fun.

Life, emotions, etc… are roller coasters and winding roads through mountains, no doubt. Things are great, things are not so great, things are good, things are horrible, things are fantastic. When asked how things are going, I catch myself saying great.. wonderful… fantastic… no matter what is actually going on most of the time because I have been through some really, really bad times in my life. In comparison, things are really great. There may be times that are crazy, there may be times that are not so wonderful, I wear those on my face and people can tell. That is o.k.; it is life. God’s Word in Ecclesiastes 3:1-2 says it this way: “To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted.” Verse 4 says, “A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and time to dance.” Winding through life has its times, and we know that our God will take those times and show us His love and strength and power. Hallelujah for the times we have!

What is The Biggest Question?

12/18/18

Cancer. Why does that word bring a gasp, an extra heartbeat, a heavy chest, a picture of someone we know? Because it literally affects just about each and every person in this world. We all have a connection to cancer because we have it or had it or through someone we know or someone we know who knows someone. There are cancer treatment centers in many towns, because it affects so many people and the need for a nearby center that focuses only on this disease is crucial. Every single day thousands of people are diagnosed with cancer, and thousands of people are treated for cancer.

Cancer. What does that mean? We see the effects of the treatment, but what exactly is cancer? The long and short of it: Our body is made up of trillions of cells, and sometimes those cells turn abnormal for one reason or another. Because cells divide, an abnormal cell divides and it does so rapidly for there is nothing to keep it in check. It can appear in so many forms, it is unbelievable; or not appear in any form on the outside which is more unbelievable. I think there are signs that maybe we overlook as regular aches and pains, but it shows itself most of the time in some form or other. My cancer appeared as a knot in my lower abdomen which was an ovary that was taken over by the cancer. I had a sign, but I was also at the tail end of puberty, so we were keeping an eye on it. I was very healthy and had no other symptoms. Because the abnormal cells divided so rapidly, my tumor was very large when the doctors opened me up.

Modern medicine has found a way to test this silent killer through different types of abnormal cell killers. Once a diagnosis is in place an oncologist will work to get the best protocol which was tested on patients in a study and proved to get results as the best treatment. Chemotherapy, radiation, surgery, etc… Chemotherapy was the only cancer treatment I received when I was diagnosed. I received it in the form of an IV drip, orally in a pill, and through a spinal tap each month. My protocol set up by the doctor for Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma had seen great results in patients, and to this day this type of cancer has a high cure rate. We saw results very quickly, but we also had many prayers go up to the Great Physician on my behalf.

Cancer. Why? Why are so many people affected by this disease? I do not know. Everyone has their thoughts about it, but there are studies of things that are known to cause this disease. We all have heard of them. Why me? I do not know. Why my family? I do not know. You see, six months after my diagnosis, while I was still going through treatments, my mom went into the dermatologist and had a spot removed on her face. It was melanoma. Cancer again became the word in our home and affected another member of the family. It was a scary time. The doctor was confident that they removed everything, and she did not have to have treatment. We let out a sigh of relief to have such great news concerning her.

Why? That question is asked when cancer is a part of two members of a five-member family unit, and our story was not quite over in this department. But the question of “why” and others are asked by the family and those around us. It does not bother you when they are asked because it can be a healing process for you to talk about what you are going through. It can be a help for those asking the questions. They might be facing the same crises or a similar one and just need a word or two of encouragement they might receive through the same conversation.

Whatever reason for my life to see cancer is only answered through my Almighty God. For me and my family; God Said Cancer. The “why” has been answered thousands of times. First off, I did not have Him fully in my life as my God and my Savior. I accepted Him as my Redeemer less than a year after the diagnosis. Secondly, God said cancer and three months later God said no cancer. My body was full of disease and the three-month scans saw not a trace. Why cancer? So God could perform a miracle. Why cancer? So the people around us could pray for us and see God work… Why cancer? So our family would become strong together in a new community… Those around my parents in the work environment would see their strength and come to our little church… We could talk to the nurses and doctors about what God did for us… I would lose my hair and feel totally embarrassed and humbled which helped me realize I was not in control… We would get a little article in the paper about my diagnosis and our church… I would lose all hope in the middle of the protocol and see God bring heart and nausea medicine to help me… Our community would come together and raise money for our cause, and remember it well when we speak to them on visits… We would travel as a family to the National Spelling Bee… These are just a few of the reasons up to this point in the journaling of our story. There are so many more before this.

Hebrews 13:21 is talking about how the God of peace “Make you perfect in every good work to do his will, working in you that which is wellpleasing in his sight, through Jesus Christ; to whom be glory for ever and ever. Amen.” Every single thing in our lives is there to help us be more like Him who is working to show others the glory that is due Him. In the moment, super duper hard, but so very important. They say hindsight is 20/20, but I want my foresight to be 20/20 and want to remember to ask God for this.

Cancer. Mine is hindsight, others is now, and still others are in the future. Why? Because God has amazing things to show us. And He had amazing things to show me as I continued my journey past the one-year mark.

Words All Around Us

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12/4/18

May 1991

My spirits were up, and the family was all pretty happy, mainly because I was not throwing up near as long. My youngest brother had had a hard go at the cancer thing. He spent so much time with sitters and really had a couple of rotten experiences. We talk about them still today, but he was a trooper. But many a time I would be laying on the couch with my tub nearby and when I would throw up, he would hold it for me. Sometimes he would set up a cot next to the couch, probably because I would watch TV to keep my mind off of the nausea, but all the same he wanted to be near me. He had to see so many things that a four and five year old should not have to deal with or see. My whole family did, but they were still my strength no matter how many times I would yell at them through the pain or mistreat them. In my mind, I was sick and had every right to behave however I wanted.

My eldest brother was back on the spelling bee trail and had done well. He won at the school, district, and then headed to state and won that. It was a pretty exciting time at home, especially when we received word, he would be traveling to the National Spelling Bee in Washington, D. C. The spelling bee organization would be paying for the speller and a chaperone to attend the event. My dad would be going with my brother. It was a busy next few days for us because the middle school he attended contacted us and asked if they could do something for the family. They would be having their annual spring fair, and they wanted to donate all the proceeds to our family so that my mom and I could go to D. C. as well. They published the fair in the paper and the cause, and the community came out in abundance. What a surprise and blessing! They ended up raising all of the funds we needed for the trip.

And we were on our way! I think I had only been on a plane one other time before we boarded the plane for the National Spelling Bee. No matter the end result, my brother was ready, and we were all very excited. Thank yous went out to him for his hard work and our community for sending us on this adventure. We would be gone a few days because they had a schedule of events leading up to the Spelling Bee. When we arrived, we were taken to a beautiful hotel down the street from the U. S. Capitol Building. We spent the week with the other spellers and their families touring our nation’s capital on tour busses and enjoying down time at a Memorial Day barbeque. We were able to see the Arlington Cemetery, some of the Smithsonian like the Air and Space Museum, and the Declaration of Independence.

My brother was nervous on the day of the Bee to say the least. We were all nervous. A spelling bee brings about a whole lot of emotions you do not expect. When the speller is up there and the word is pronounced, they have the ability to ask a couple of questions. During the whole time he was standing there, my heart was beating a hundred miles an hour. I cannot imagine what his is doing! As soon as he started spelling, I would just hope he knew the crazy word, because I did not have a clue. Each time he got it right was such a relief because you knew he could picture that word in his head, so he was in a good frame of mind. He went out in the fourth round and was very disappointed, but we were all super proud of his accomplishment. This time in our lives needed a time of joy, and we acknowledged that God had given us this trip for just that; a trip we would never forget. I had received a chemotherapy the week before traveling, so when we returned, I had a couple more days off and then back to the routine.

What is it about certain words that can cause a spirit and the physical and mental state of mind to change in an instant? First of all, we are human beings, and God created us with a body, soul, and spirit. We can keep the body looking well on the outside, but many times actions and words affect the spirit and mind more than we can control, and what is on the inside will come out. God’s word tells us in Matthew 12:34, the second part, “…out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh.” Secondly, we keep allowing ourselves to be around the negative, so we internalize it and let it affect our heart. Each time I heard I had to have chemo because my counts were good, it affected me. The same went for my brother and spelling. He would put in the correct spelling of the words, so that what came out was the correct spelling of the word.

There are so many horrible outside forces that are not as easy to combat as those spelling words or the words I heard each time from the doctor. But as Christians we have the same God who can help us make it through, and if we will purposefully make it a point to internalize God and His Word at the hard times, we WILL come out on the other side.

Only God Can Do That

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11/27/18

Winter 1990 and 1991

Mint chocolate chip or peanut butter? Pepperoni or cheese? Wood or painted? SUV or sedan? Right and wrong? Choices are constantly in our lives and sometimes staring us in the face asking for us to make a decision that instant. What do we do for those major decisions? Pray and seek counsel from those around us that have most likely been faced with something similar. The little choices do not seem as important but can really change some things in our lives depending on what choice we make.

I was up against choices that changed my life forever. Since cancer had already done that, it was my turn. My dad and I were driving out toward the house, and he asked me a question that rocked my world. Had I thought about dying? Because he had known from his point of view that I had been at death’s door. Of course not! It did not even cross my mind at all. My only thoughts about cancer were that it was the worst thing that ever happened to me; I hated every minute of the fact I could not be a normal teenager, and stupid chemo made me lose my hair! No reason to talk about dying because I was going to be done with chemotherapy in less than a year and so long cancer.

I did not admit it, but his question scared me, and I spent the next few weeks in anguish. You see, when I was five, I knelt at a chair with my aunt and prayed the sinner’s prayer, but during elementary school I went to a Christian school and my teachers would always talk about where we would go if we were to die. I remember getting the opportunity to pray a couple of times on my knees near the chalkboard, and each time I asked God to save me if I was not saved. I knew I was not 100% sure if I had not woken up from surgery that I would have gone to Heaven. On January 5, 1991, I accepted the Lord as my Savior and felt a relief beyond all measure. I also felt like maybe things were getting better for me as a person.

That changed quickly. Around March, I had had enough of doctors, chemo, heart problems and the world. School was pretty difficult, and my headaches were unbearable. Nothing seemed to even scrape the surface and give me any relief. My heart condition was getting extremely out of control. I could not stop it right away, and it made me a nervous wreck. Throwing up for 24 hours was the last straw. I was so totally and absolutely done with puking. So I was walking into another chemo hoping for a low blood count so I could go home. When the doctor came in and said the counts were good, I made a choice to leave. I told my mom I was done, I was not going to do chemo, and I did not care if I died. This awful, this horrible disease was destroying my spirit and my wherewithal to live.

I got up and tried to get out of the room. But mom stood between me and the door and told me that I was not leaving, we were going to stick with this. Through tears and sobbing from both of us, we had a verbal and mental struggle with each other, and me with the devil because I was not going to stay there. Our memories of the day are a little different, but we both know God took control of it from that point. I sat back down on the bed, and mom kept telling me we were going to beat this thing; we had come this far and had six months left. Literally, within minutes the cardiologist stopped in and asked us to come over and discuss a new drug that came out for my condition. It was taking control of the rapid heartbeats, and patients were seeing improvement in the number of episodes a person was experiencing. He said our only other option was open heart surgery, and my body could not survive that on cancer treatments. Right after we returned from the cardiologist, the oncologist came in and said they were ready for the spinal tap, and by the way, a nausea medicine that helped with the length of time a chemo patient threw up just made its way to the department. I would be the first to try it out if I was interested. We said we definitely would try it out.

In less than an hour my choice to leave, my mom’s strong and convincing words to stay, and my choice to stay changed the next six months of my life. Both drugs really did just what we were told they would do. If I remember right, I did not have another heart episode during that period of time, and my nausea stopped at the twelve-hour mark. We said then and say now, only God can and did do that. Just like my God gave me a clear scan and blood work from three-month post diagnosis until now, thirty-three years later; only God can do that.

Stories like this could not possibly be true, but I am a living testament that they are. God showed Himself to us so strong and powerful, there was no question in our minds and thousands of others that have heard the story. It was He who did it. Why do I forget that miracle in my life? Why do I go through things right now and struggle to see God working? Where is my focus? I submit that it is not on God but on myself and the difficult situation I am in. I try hard to remember where God has brought me from and what He has done in my life. Little things like not complaining about a bad hair day are at the forefront of mind, and the reason why should be, too.

God is so good to me, and I am truly, truly blessed to be able to say that only God could do that.

Spring In Our Steps

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11/6/18

April 1990

Home again, home again. We had made it through a crises on top of our crisis. Phew! I was so happy to return home and feel like a normal person. I started to feel like I could do more things and be more myself. Our middle school was having their spring concert, and since I had been in choir before I went into the hospital and my brother was performing as well, I asked if I could go. Dad and mom loaded us up, and when we got there I used a wheelchair because I was still pretty weak. I was able to see so many of my friends, I felt rejuvenated. They dedicated the concert to me, and the next day there was a picture of me sitting in the wheelchair watching the concert on the front page of the local paper. Unbeknownst to us, a reporter from the paper was there to do a story about the concert and heard about what had transpired with our family. You see, we were one of the only Baptist churches in town, and the article mentioned that dad was the pastor at Uinta Bible Baptist Church. God has ways to invite people to church and sometimes it is not through an invitation at the door or work. The whole town knew about us now. At this same time, I wanted to start working on my school work. The school sent out a tutor to help me get through the massive amount of assignments, and I worked extremely hard to get caught up.

My biggest fear came true-my hair started to thin. Mom took me to town one day to get a shorter haircut and take some pictures at the local photographer. She wanted to put together a prayer card to send out to the hundreds of people that had sent cards and gifts to us during my hospitals stays. I was hoping that my hair situation would stay in this mode; just be thin. I mean, I had met kids at the hospital that were on chemo, and they had not lost their hair. I was in denial, because I had seen way more bald heads than ones with hair.

Months before, my parents had made plans to go on a trip for spring break and Easter. We had made quick friends with a family in our church after we arrived in Evanston, but they were moved to Denver for work right before my diagnosis. After much discussion, they decided we should travel down and go on the trip. We had a fantastic visit, but Easter morning about a month and a week after my first encounter with a doctor, my hair began to come out is handfuls. I was in the bathroom brushing my hair and yelled for my mom to come in. I had brushed a massive amount of hair out in the brush. Crying might be an understatement for my reaction. You see, I had had plenty of emotions; tears of pain, anger at doctors and nurses just trying to help me, determination to get better, happiness when getting to go home. You name it, I had run through the gamut of emotions, but this loss of my identity was more than I could handle. Mom started crying as she kept brushing to get the hair contained. When she was done I was basically completely bald and totally devastated and drained of all emotion.

Mom had known this was going to happen, and we had chosen a wig from a store near the hospital when we left the last time. I had told her I did not want to walk around bald like most of the other kids. Showing off my bald head was something that was really hard for me to embrace, so she had spent quite a bit of money on a nice wig. She had brought it with us to Denver along with a couple of scarves and bandanas.

She brought them to the bathroom, and we tried them on. At the time, I was not able to see myself with the wig on, so I chose a bandana. Everyone had left for the church service, and I had mixed emotions about going. We finally decided to go since we hated to miss the Easter service. I was absolutely embarrassed at the way I looked, but our friends were kind and caring about what had transpired. I do remember being glad to go back to their home. The next time I had to leave the house was not so bad, and the next time, and the next time. When we returned home, I started wearing the wig exclusively and only the bandana at night or at chemo. Mom had purchased a Styrofoam head that I put the wig on, and I would style it to make it look more like how I would wear my hair. It was difficult to keep the wig on my bald head, so I used double sided tape to stick it to my scalp, and most days I wore a headband that went all the way around my head to keep it on. At thirteen years old, losing my hair could not have been more traumatic. Everything else faded into the background in comparison to what I looked like on the outside. My looks were my identity and that identity had changed so much with the hair loss.

With the wig on tight, I entered the middle school doors again for the last few weeks of school. I was all caught up with the assignments I had missed and the ones the teachers sent home in case I did not return. Some classes were behind what I had worked on so I was super excited to be back, not playing catch up, and among my friends. I still had to miss every two weeks for a chemo. They were getting to be pretty intense with the side effects. I would basically go to school on the day of chemo until the very last minute I had to get in the car, and then we would either go to Salt Lake or the pediatrician’s office in town. I would be sick for about twenty-four hours, which would make me miss one day of school, and I would head back to school the second day after chemo. I was able to keep up and at the end of May, my friends and I had eighth grade promotion. We were headed to high school!

“Oh, God, you are my God, and I will ever praise you. I will seek you in the morning, and I will learn to walk in your ways. And step by step you’ll lead me, and I will follow you all of my days.” This song is written by David Strasser. I love this song. Step by step; that is the only way I can describe this journey. Each and every step forward, no matter if it is followed by two steps back, is another step in a direction that God is leading. Do we understand why we are taking that step forward in a situation that feels absolutely devastating? We do. Because our Christian life began with a step. A change from our old ways into a new life with Christ. What an awesome step of faith; becoming a child of God! What an awesome step of faith; believing He is in control of our __________________. We each can fill in the blank with what we are going through. We can have absolute faith and confidence that if we follow, God will lead ALL of our days.

A, B, C, D, E, F, G …

10/29/18

March 29, 1990

I mentioned in an earlier post that God orchestrated our path and moved us to a remote town in Wyoming. This state has less than 600,000 people, and its largest town has 63,000 people. Our little town had 10,000 at the time which puts it in the top ten cities in population, and it is located on a major cross country interstate, I-80. Why all of the statistics? Remote, desolate, long winters, no family, but we were 80 miles away from one of the top tier children’s hospitals in the United States, located a few miles north of I-80 in Salt Lake City. Only God knows. If there was any questions of why we moved eighteen months earlier, they were answered.

I was sitting in the hospital in Evanston after the doctor came in and told us I had a bowel obstruction. Dad, with my eldest brother, had left around this time because he had won the city spelling bee and was headed to regionals. Still amazes me that he did so well in the midst of this family situation, but he was a strong student. We had started months before my diagnosis drilling him on a nightly basis with words from the dictionary. He was crazy good at it.

The next step for mom and I; a trip back down to Salt Lake City. The bowel obstruction must resolve, or I was going to have to have surgery. Since I just came from there, the doctors in both locations decided if surgery was the outcome, then I should be back at Primary. They loaded me up in an ambulance because the hospital cannot release me with this kind of diagnosis, and we hit the road to the hospital. This was super surreal. I had experienced a couple of medical issues as a kid. One was a tonsillectomy at three, a broken collarbone from a tree swing made out of a sheet that was not quite tight enough, and the last one was an irregular heartbeat. The heart issue I will touch on later.

I was in the ambulance, and out of the back I could see us leaving town and driving past our church and home because they were on the service road of the interstate. I was so disappointed that I was leaving home again and wondered how long I would be gone. Home seemed like a haven for me, normalcy that I wanted to experience away from the doctors, nurses, needles, smells, etc… I just wanted this all to go away, but I knew something was really wrong with me at the moment. We passed by familiar landmarks that I had seen in the past, but when I was facing the other way in a car. It was almost like I was seeing them for the last time, and I could not understand why. Swirling around my thoughts and feelings, the siren of the ambulance gave me an eerie feeling that all this new stuff that was a part of my life now was no joke. Not going anywhere; not going to be pushed aside for homework, shopping, hanging out with friends, playing volleyball, and even sleeping in my own bed in my own room in my own home with MY family nearby. No, this was all here to stay.

I determined in that ambulance ride that no matter how hard cancer was going to hit me, that I was going to hit back harder. I was going to do whatever it took to “get better.” I physically was going to be as strong as possible and push myself to fight this. I told myself that this was going to be the last time I was going to go to the hospital. I knew God was real and with us, and I cried out to him to take it all away. But on the other side of the coin was the reality that I was super sick at that very moment.

When we arrived at the Salt Lake hospital, they admitted me and shoved a horrible tube down my nose and into my stomach. This NG tube would pump my stomach and relieve abdominal swelling. An enema is administered as well to see if the bowel will release itself. If this does not work, then surgery is about the only option. All my doctors came by to figure this out, because I would not survive a surgery. The incision site was not healing from the lack of white blood cells affected by the chemo, so most likely my body would not survive if surgery was decided on. Mom basically begged them to wait; we were going to pray for a miracle. And we did.

Within two days the obstruction resolved, and the doctors felt like I was in the clear. They administered the second round of chemotherapy I was supposed to receive back home, and after a few more days I was released. Almighty God healed me! And through the doctors’ knowledge, discussions, and procedures for this type of health scare, I was on the mend, inside and outside. My incision was taken care of by the medical staff and there was no other cause for concern. I was definitely placed in the hospital at the right time for there might have been some serious scarring involved that I would have dealt with in the future.

Each of these intermittent rays of sunshine within about a week changed so much of our dark cancer world. It gave us a massive pick-me-up, that for the last month, had been almost non-existent. It was now time to go home! I was more than excited, but I saw just a hint of something on my pillow that was beginning to concern me. Please, don’t tell me it was happening; if I ignore it, it will go away.

A, B, C, D, E, F, G… Words are built and given life by individual letters that come together. Once the word has been given life, it can be used alone like “Hi” or put together to make sentences to communicate. So much of our life is the same as a letter. There are times that the experience is put together and creates a small caveat in our world depending on how we observe it. Or the experience is placed with other experiences, and they come together and make a massive crater. Letters, they can change our lives; experiences they move our world. And God is the hand that holds us tight in and out of the caveats and craters. Isaiah 41:10 “Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness.”

What Is Happening Right Now?

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10/23/18

March 23, 1990

“It looks like we are going to send you home. You are tolerating the chemotherapy, you are keeping solids down, your bowels are functioning again after surgery, and you are moving around better.” Those doctor’s words were wonderful music to our ears! The other music had been screeching in our ears for two weeks, and we desperately needed a new genre. Constant beeping from the IV pole and the heart monitor, people talking in the halls, and the blood pressure machine every couple of hours. None of the milestones mentioned in the first line were expectations of the doctors when this all began. But God said otherwise.

Hospital stays are so difficult, or maybe it is just me. At the beginning, I was started on a liquid diet for a few days and lost quite a bit of weight. When Jello was allowed, there was orange, green, and yellow, but I really wanted to have red. Do you know the hospital did not make red Jello? After a couple of days, it appeared on my food tray, and I was absolutely ecstatic! They had made it just for me. After a few days, I began to feel better, and they started weaning me off of pain medication. I was more aware of my surroundings and sleeping less. I really wanted to go home.

By the time we received those joyous words that we were going home, I had received a chemotherapy drip, with the second one scheduled to be administered at my pediatrician’s office in a few days. Two different drips were on my eighteen-month protocol. One drip was two hours and would later be the one that I dreaded. It was associated with the spinal tap, and both of them combined would make me extremely sick. The other drip was four hours long and did not seem to hit me as hard. At any rate, I tolerated them at the hospital, which was a good sign for the doctors. We received tremendous care, and we all understood we would be seeing each other for months to come.

Being home was rejuvenating, but I spent more time sleeping than anything. I was about seventy pounds and pretty weak. It was nice to be around my dad and brothers again. A new group of people to draw strength from. They were a big help, and we settled into just working at getting me strong again. My mom headed back to work to catch up, and the boys continued to go to school. Things changed quickly though. Within a week, I was writhing in pain. Mom made calls to the doctor, and dad loaded me up in the car for a trip to the hospital.

As I mentioned before, Wyoming has winter. This was the first of April, and we had received a snowstorm. On our way to the hospital, dad hit black ice, and the van spun around, flipped, and landed on the passenger side on an embankment. I was in the front passenger seat and remember looking up and seeing my dad hanging from his seatbelt. We were alive, but in a very precarious situation. Dad told me to crawl on the window over the seat, and then I could unbuckle him. By this time, a man driving by had stopped and was talking to us from outside. He and dad decided to see if the back hatch would open up, and we crawled out. I had hurt my leg, maybe when we had landed on that side, so they carried me to his truck. He drove us to our original destination, the hospital, and they started to check on me. I kept saying that my dad was in the wreck, too, and I wanted them to make sure he was fine. Thankfully, we were both injury free.

There was more of situation with the reason we were coming to the hospital. The abdominal pain was excruciating, and my incision was started to come apart. After testing, it came back that I had a bowel obstruction which is a complication from the surgery. Also, the incision was not healing because of the chemotherapy interference. It lowers the white blood cells which are supposed to help in the healing process, and it is possible I had attracted some kind of infection.

I was about to hit rock bottom, and I am pretty sure my family was about to hit the superhero status. I Corinthians 10:13 says “There hath no temptation taken you but such as is common to man: but God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able; but will with the temptation also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it.” How can one verse say so much about our God, our Christian lives, and the trials that come our way?

The View From the Mountaintop

10/13/18

3/15/1990

Even if you have no desire to embrace the cancer world, it does not take very long before it embraces you, and your family is plunged head first into a new life. The doctors showed us how much they cared about what was happening to us, and yet pushed my parents forward on decisions that needed to be made immediately. Once we got past the diagnosis and had a protocol in place, we hit the ground running.

I started chemotherapy the day after surgery and also had my first spinal tap. What an ordeal. They made me get in the tightest fetal position I could on my side so they could remove spinal fluid to make sure there was not cancer there, and then they replaced it with chemotherapy. If they did not replace it, I would get a massive headache they told us. Memories of a spinal tap make my stomach turn, and I feel nauseous because I can remember the gurgling sensation at the base of my skull and the cool sensation from the chemo. It is very much like an epidural administered when having a baby. Needless to say, the first tap was a hard one, because I had a gigantic incision on my stomach and sites on my hips from the bone marrow extraction. I was still on quite a bit of pain medication which was helpful but obviously not enough.

The first chemotherapy was uneventful. They administered the drip through an IV that was attached to a crazy apparatus that came out of the middle of my chest. It was basically an IV that had a needle insertion site, and it went up under my skin toward my collarbone and then down into my heart. This would allow the heart to pump the chemo to my body quickly. I really had no affects right away even though they told me about vomiting and hair loss. After a couple of days, I remember thinking that maybe I would not lose my hair; that was pretty important to me.

I was moved from ICU to a regular room. The hospital was really crowded so each room had two kiddos. We were reminded that the new hospital would be opening soon. You could tell the nurses were very excited about it. They did their best to make me comfortable, trying to get me to walk; I refused. Mom recalls that they decided to tell me I had to move rooms, but I would have to walk there. It worked, once I had to walk, I was confident that my stomach was not going to fall out and land on the floor. I still held a pillow on my belly for weeks. My scar was so giant, I kept thinking it looked like I was a gutted deer.

We would end up staying about two weeks in the hospital. The doctors wanted to watch my reactions to the chemo and make sure I was healing well, but mainly they really did not think I would leave. Of course, I was not aware of this; that was my only goal – TO leave. My mom was my rock during this time, comforting me in the pain and making me feel like I could keep moving forward. She was spent physically and emotionally, but never showed me or told me that she had had a fainting spell one morning. After a few days in the hospital, she came down with a migraine which caused a seizure where they had to take her to the regular hospital. That was scary for both of us. She did not want to leave me, and I did not want her to go.

My grandparents came up toward the end of our two weeks, and my grandmother gave my mom a break. Mom was able to go across the street to a room the hospital provided, and dad and mom were able to go for her birthday dinner one evening. As I mentioned before, we had many friends and visitors come by and spend time showing us how much they cared about what we were going through. The cards poured in. The school sent large butcher paper posters with encouraging comments from the whole student body. Churches all over the country sent envelopes filled with cards and notes from church members that we had never met. They cared about us still. They prayed for us still. It did not take much time to realize how important other people meant to us. God’s Word tells us He is our strength in times of trouble, and He hears prayers. Isaiah 40:29 tells us, “He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak.” Psalm 66:20 says “Blessed be God, which hath not turned away my prayer, nor his mercy from me.” I know we as a family were living these verses.

Praying is like climbing a mountain. To climb a mountain, we look ahead and map our course not really knowing how hard it will be or even what the outcome will be. There is hope, right, that we can make it even when it gets hard, and we will get to see the amazing view from the top. And the view at the top is really hard to describe unless a person has seen it. When we pray, we have hope that God will map our course, show us where to go and know that no matter the outcome, we will be able to see the amazing view from the top.

I Am Not Sick

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10/7/18

3/15/90

In the faint distance I can hear myself yelling, but nothing is coming out of my mouth. Or was it? Inside I know I am yelling, and all I want to do is tell someone I am in so much pain. What is going on? Why is no one helping me? And then the yell comes out of my mouth, and I can hear someone tell me it is going to be ok. Be still, calm down, you are just waking up from surgery. But I am in so much pain; how can you tell me to calm down?

Waking up in the recovery room after surgery was a very strong memory. I could hear so many different noises; people talking, machines beeping, oxygen flowing, my own voice… And I could remember smells of antiseptic, Beda dine, rubbing alcohol… I was truly scared and was being picked up by the sheet under me and placed onto another bed. They pushed me through doors into ICU. Faint memories as I was in and out of consciousness were later filled in by my parents as they shared with me what transpired. I was very upset most of the time, mainly because I was in so much pain. At one point, I remember hearing my mom talking to the doctor, and she asked him how she was suppose to tell me I had cancer. My immediate thoughts were: What? They told us they were going to take this tumor out, and I was going home. This was not supposed to be happening.

Cancer?

That is so bad. I asked my mom if it was cancer, and she said yes. All I could do was cry, but did I really know what that meant? I fell back to sleep. Hours passed, and each time I woke up, I was more aware of my surroundings. The oncology doctor came in and greeted us with an amazingly kind and caring face. He made this crazy situation one that seemed not so crazy. He brought the comfort to the room. After a couple of days, we had a serious talk. He shared with us that I had Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, and we would start a chemotherapy treatment the next day, then every two weeks for 18 months. Along with the chemo treatments they would do a spinal tap each month. My parents had already been given this information and what would be happening. It was my turn to hear it.

Later on my parents shared with me what went on while I was in surgery. During surgery, the doctor had reported to them that I had a tumor from my diaphragm down that covered my entire abdomen. He could not remove any of it because of the large amount of cancer and its proximity to the organs. One ovary was removed, which was used for the biopsy. This was the lump I felt that my mom and I had discussed a couple of weeks before. They had also done a bone marrow test, which is one of the main reasons I was in so much pain, and they had inserted a broviac line, an IV tube that came out of my chest for administering chemo drugs. My body was all riddled with stitches. When everything was done, I had an eighteen-inch-long incision down the middle of my stomach, and the cancer closed back in underneath it.

I was also connected to every hospital tube known to man and not a happy camper. It was extremely difficult for me to accept this whole ordeal. Mainly because I was healthy at the beginning of the week, so how could all of this be necessary? This silent killer called cancer was literally holding my life in the balance, and I did not realize my odds were not so good. I really just wanted to get out of there. In the next few days, my dad returned home to be with my brothers and brought them up to see us. My closest friend that I had met the first day in the new school in the new town, spent hours with me. She rallied the kids at school, and we also had many of them drive the 80 miles down and visit with us. Our wonderful church family and local pastors came up to spend time with my parents. The support we received was overwhelming. The hospital room filled to capacity with flowers, stuffed animals, balloons, large posters, and cards. The prayers filled in any space that was left.

II Timothy 1:7 “For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.” This verse refers to a believer and their ability to share Christ with others. We have been given power and love and a sound mind so we can share with others that God loves and wants each person to accept His Son to be their Savior. But this verse is also an encouragement to the believer in other ways. Fear is definitely an emotion that comes with cancer. Maybe it is the fear of what is going to happen next after what just unexpectedly happened last. With cancer there is never a plan that goes as planned; there is just a plan that goes. But God has a plan and sees that fear and brings a multitude of people with a multitude of loving hearts that bring before Him a multitude of prayers.

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